


A Step in the Dark

by 221Bird



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, M/M, Mysterious Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-11-05 00:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11002650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221Bird/pseuds/221Bird
Summary: Wherever John goes, he doesn't think that he's alone.





	1. The Late Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherever John goes, he doesn't think that he's alone.

The air was cold and the wind bit him to his bones. The lone man sucked in a breath, and trudged forward in the vacant cobbled streets. The lampposts casted a dim tallow glow upon the late London city.

John Watson had taken the night shift at his local hospital, and after hours of diagnosing colds, giving people physicals, and stitching up a wound or two, John was making the long trek back home. Now that the busses stopped running a long time ago, the last underground was about to leave soon.

But John couldn’t complain. This was the first job he landed after coming home from Afghanistan. And a job was a job.

John jogged down the flights of stairs, swiping his oyster card, he made it onto the platform with what he thought was only a few minutes to spare.

John hugged his jacket closer to him. Staring at the tracks in front of him he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise. It was like the bitter cold had followed him down here. From the corner of his eye, he saw the lights on the other end of the platform flicker on and off and then dark.

He took a step closer to the tracks, and looked down at his phone. The train should be arriving now.

John adjusted his bag on his shoulders. It was beginning to put a strain on his bad shoulder.

A shiver ran down his spine again. He was under the impression that the shadows at the end of the platform were inkling closer. He blinked his eyes, and they were back at the opposite end. He just chalked it up to being drowsy.

2:05

Still no train.

He groaned. ”what the fuck”.

John was about to consider just walking home when suddenly, the tracks shook and the train came rumbling forward.

Straightening up, John hurriedly hopped into the first compartment and settled in.

The door closed behind him and as John looked out the windows into the platform, the lights flickered, sending the room into a world of momentary darkness, before turning back on, all accept for that one corner.

John jumped. There, Right there he could make out the vague outline of a man, And before he could react, the doors closed and the train sped off.

John sank into his seat, as his heart continued to pound a million miles an hour in his chest.

Whatever he could make out of the man, it wasn’t much. He was tall and thin, and wore a coat. But that was all he saw. Whoever he was, John couldn’t be more thankful that those doors closed just in time.

X -x -x -x

John dug into his pockets for his keys. As sleep tried to overpower him, and the cold bit and wiped at him, John’s hands shook as he opened the door to his dark empty flat.

John shut the door quickly behind him, end made sure that the lock and chain were in place. The image of the man standing in the shadows haunted him to his very bones still.

He turned on the lights to his flat.

It wasn’t much of a home. There were no family pictures laying about and it wasn’t decorated besides the mirror that hung but the dining table.

Dumping his bag in the hall, he went to the restroom.

After splashing some water onto his face he entered his bedroom. Taking his shirt and pants off, he slipped under the covers in an effort to gain some warmth. And as his last restraints slipped, the last thing he saw behind closed eyes was the tall man from the shadows.


	2. The Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments in the last chapter! Your comments mean so much to me as I am still very new to story making. This time i made the chapter a little longer so enjoy! Yet again please feel free to leave your comments below. I'd love to know what you're thinking as I have yet to find a Beta reader to give me feedback. In fact, if any of you are interested in helping me make this story the best that it can be, please let me know! Thank you!

Cracking his eyes open, John was greeted by the sight of early dawn casting light through his curtains. John sat up slowly, lifting a hand to his forehead to massage the headache that had made its home there.

Last night had been rough.

Between flashes of hot dessert sun, and high-pitched screams, he had been tormented with shadows and a dark mist that obscured a pair of footsteps that always followed close behind yet were just out of reach. All night long, he had been pulled back and forth between the two opposite dreams like a swinging pendulum.  

Scrunching and blinking away the morning grogginess, John got to his feet to make some coffee.

This couldn’t continue to go on. Ever since he had returned to a civilian life, he had been endlessly plagued by nightmares. Every night he’d wake up with a sweaty brow and a heaving chest burning for air. Not even his therapist seemed to help cast his terrors away.

John needed a friend. A real friend. Someone he could sit with and talk to about his problems. Someone he could laugh with and have a good time and would always be one phone call away. Not someone he paid to talk to for half an hour and then be forced back into a depressing loneliness.

Gingerly sipping on his hot brew, he sat down in front of his computer. The only problem was who would bother putting up with someone as damaged as him?

It was eventually by looking through his contact list that he found the perfect candidate. Mike Stamford.

After some nervous pacing and self-convincing, John plucked up the courage to dial the number.

The phone rang once, twice, three times, and then

“Hello?...John? John Watson? Is this really you?”

He seemed happy. John let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Hi Mike. Yeah..It’s me. ”

He heard a light-hearted chortle on the other end. “Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise? I didn’t know you were back in town. Last time I heard from you, you were in the army getting shot at.”

“I..er..I did yeah. Didn’t work out for me in the end..”

“oh shame..What happened?”

“I got shot at.”

There was a short pause followed by a hum.

John sighed “listen, Mike. Now that I’m back I was wondering if you wanted to grab a pint sometime?”

The reply came back kindly, “Of course, John. Anytime. In fact, I’m free tonight, if you’re up for it?”

Relief settled in. “Yeah..Yeah. I’d like that. Where at?”

“There’s a little joint not too far off Trafalgar Square. I’ll text you the time and the address.”

 “Right Mike. Thanks, mate.”

He clicked the phone shut, and for the first time in a long while, John smiled.

x-x-x

The pub hadn’t been hard to find. After ordering his beer at the bar, John glanced around the room for anyone that resembled the old Mike he used to know. It was pretty occupied for the night. Not too packed but busy enough that John had no wish to sit at the cramped bar. Picking his way across the room, he settled at a table huddled against the wall.

As he sat alone in a crowded room, the bitter yet so familiar taste of loneliness dribbled down into the pit of his stomach once more. John bit his lip, and quickly took a large gulp of beer in the hopes of drowning it. Setting it back down on the table with a thump, he leaned back in his chair and waited. But as he sat there, he began to feel the odd sense that he was being watched.

He shivered as a coldness ran up along his spine, making his hairs stand on end just as it did that night at the station. John lifted his head, neck straining as he looked around for any darkness that was lurking around in any corners, but he found none.

The chair across from his scratched back against the floorboards, and down plopped Mike Stamford.

John flinched slightly but smiled nonetheless, welcoming his old friend.

“Mike. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, mate.” He smiled warmly. “I honestly couldn’t believe the caller I.D when I first saw it” he chuckled. “I was expecting you to be at war for another few years.”

“So did I’ John sighed. “How are you?”

“Fine. I’ve got a wife, two kids now that need looking after.” Mike’s kind eyes looked him over. “And you John..How have you been?... Has Harry tried reaching out to you yet?”

John swallowed. “I’ve been fine. I have a job at the hospital. They’re mostly the dead shift but it pays the rent..As for Harry..She’s come around once or twice but she’s got her own problems to deal with.”

“Still with Clara?”

John nodded.

“You know, John..Maybe you should find your own Clara? It might do you some good.”

“I know..I know, Mike. But I don’t think anyone would find routine night terrors desirable. ”

Mike paused, taking a good long look at John before saying “You never know John. There’s someone out there for everybody.”

x-x-x

They ended up staying until it was almost closing time. By the end of the night, John couldn’t even remember all the things they had talked about. It had been so nice.

John was dreading going back to his empty apartment.

As he finished bidding Mike farewell and waved him off, John felt a spidery chill pour down his back for the second time that night. Straightening up, he quickly walked off in the direction of his flat, making a sharp turn around a corner. He ran right smack into the figure in front of him.

“Oh-I’m sorry”

“Watch it will you?” a deep baritone sneer interrupted John’s apology.

John blinked and took a step backwards.

“Ah..actually, no need to be sorry” The man in front of him flashed a sharp white smile. ‘You’re lucky I wasn’t some poor old lady”

Mouth still hanging slightly agape, he shook his head. “uh no-no.” Despite the odd chill he was feeling, John’s cheeks heated up.

The stranger smirked.

He was taller than him by about a head, and very thin. His skin was frighteningly pale. It reminded John of the silver moon, casting its light over the quiet dunes. He wore a crown of jet black curls that cascaded over him like waves rolling over each other. But his eyes were the most entrancing. They were like their own pair of galaxies with intermingling hues of blues and greens. They stared down at him hard, drinking him in as much as John was with him.

He was struck. He felt vulnerable under the scrutiny, like a butterfly pinned under a glass to be observed.

John was the first to break the trance. He looked down, clearing his throat. “Er..excuse me I’ve got to get going.”

The mysterious man looked surprise for a moment before he quickly smoothed his expression. Slowly nodded once but didn’t step back to clear John’s path.

“hmm. That would seem to be a wise decision. Don’t want to be stuck out here late. You never know what kind of characters come out at night.”

John swallowed stepping forward so that he brushed past the stranger. And not once did he look back.


	3. Another Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took me so long to update! Summer classes were crazy and then I actually got the chance to visit London!   
> Anyway, here's the update.

As the days passed, John was beginning to feel that things were finally taking a turn for the better. A cheerful warmth that had been previously absent was slowly starting to seep back in.

He had met up with Mike a couple more times, and had even met his lovely wife. But watching Mike, John couldn’t help but think how nicely settled he was. So, he eventually caved and decided to follow his friend’s advice.

There was a woman at his office, Sarah. She was certainly pretty and had been very kind to him ever since he had started his work at the hospital. They had even gone out for coffee a few times. But so far, nothing serious had developed between the two them.

John’s life was indeed looking up but he would soon come upon a creeping realization. There was no doubt that he was happier than before, but no matter what steps he took to rehabilitate himself back into a normal civilian life, it wasn’t good enough to drive out the aching boredom that had crawled up inside of him and nested there.

There was something deep down that ached. It stirred within him at the station, and he felt it once more the night after the pub.

And the feeling would return once more as he was taking one of his walks through the park. 

As John was walking through the greenery, coffee in one hand, and crutch in the other, he happened upon a crime scene.  From where he could see, it seemed like half of Scotland Yard had gathered around the sequestered field. Curiosity peeking the soldier’s interest, John came up to the yellow tape to take a closer look.

Scotland Yard had made sure to keep the public at bay, but even from far out John could make out the body of a woman. Her body was twisted and contorted in different directions like a sort of gruesome pretzel.

John had seen his fair share of blood and gore. But that didn’t stop the hairs on the back of his neck from standing up.

He felt more than heard someone walk up behind him.

“Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise” A low barriton voice rumbled.

John sucked in a breath and turned around to greet its owner.

The stranger from outside the pub greeted him with a  toothy grin. In broad daylight he was even more handsome. Under the sun, his curls seemed to reflect more of a dark brown hue, but his eyes were mesmerizingly clear. They were hypnotizing.

John realized he was being awfully rude by staring. “Er, Hi.” He shook his head “Sorry about the other night..” He stuffed his hands inside his pockets.

The stranger seemed to consider him for a moment. “I do hate repetition. But like I said the other night, No need to apologize..In fact, I think it is I that needs to give you my sincere apologies .. When we met it wasn't under the best circumstances.”

John blinked. “What do you mean?”

The stranger just smiled in return. Ignoring John’s question in favor of his own.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

John paused, his mouth screwed open slightly in confusion that had come out of nowhere. “Wha-..What?”

The man huffed in annoyance. “I asked where you were stationed. Afghanistan or Iraq?”

“Afghanistan. But er, sorry how did you know?”

There was a roll of brilliant blue eyes.

“I didn’t know. I deduced. And since I already know you’re going to ask why, I might as well tell you now. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. You’re tan but you’ve got tan lines along your wrist, indicating you spent copious amount of time in a warm climate.”

John looked surprised but not unpleased. “I’m sorry. But who are you?”

"You say sorry a lot, did you know that?" The man extended a pale white hand “The name is Sherlock Holmes, and I am a consulting detective.”

John looked back over his shoulder to the crime scene behind them. “For the Yard?”

“No. Not just for them, although they do come to me when they’re out of their depth, which is always.” His chest puffed out a little, and he looked awfully proud of himself.

“And you are…?”

“John Watson” he introduced himself.

“Well Doctor John Watson. Come. I’d like to have a second opinion.”

A look of surprise fell across John's face at being called doctor. He hesitates a little, wondering how the hell this man could pick that up from him but nonetheless, he follows him over the yellow line.

As they approached the body, a man with silver grey hair turned towards them. He looked exhausted as if he hadn’t had much sleep in days. John could relate to that.

“Oh thank Gods you’re here Sherlock. I’m going to give you five minutes with the body, but that’s all I can give you. Oh hold up. Who’s this?” he said, holding up a hand to block him from coming any closer. 

John started “I’m- ”

“He’s with me” Sherlock interrupted. And with a slight smirk he added “And don’t worry. I’ll only need three.”

He walked over towards the body, and like mice, the yard scattered to give him plenty of room.

John stood by and watched in fascination as Sherlock examined the body, not leaving a single part of her unexamined. After a minute of examination, he turned his piercing scrutinizing gaze upward towards John. “So what do you think?”

Sinking to his knees besides him, John took his turn to look over her the woman’s contorted body.  There were signs of struggle on her arms. The culprit had left dark bruises on her wrists. They were pulled up and over her head. Her neck was broken, and upon further inspection there were slashes along her neck but the ground where she lay was dry as bones. After a few moments John got up, brushing the dirt from his knees.

“She bled to death. But the thing is.. If she did, then what happened to all the blood?”

That earned him a smile but with the unmistakable glint of hunger and intrigue underneath. Jumping up to his feet the detective exclaimed, “Excellent John! Asking all the right question. You’re already proving yourself more useful than Lestrad’s men. Her blood couldn’t have disappeared. So what happened?”

“She could have been moved after she bled out?” John suggested.

“Hmm..Maybe..” Sherlock replied with a sly knowing smile.

A young woman came strutting up towards them, hissing “We’re not running a daycare here, Freak.”

“Sally.” Sherlock nodded towards her “This is John Watson.”

She squinted at John as if he had grown three heads. “You actually got yourself a friend? Wow. How much did he pay you?”

John stuttered, taken aback “Actually..We’re more like acquaintances.”

Fed up, Sherlock turned on his heal and began marching away “I think I’ve had just enough of introduction, come along, John. I’d like to borrow you for further assistance.” Without another word, Sherlock turned away from the crime scene.

Looking back over his shoulder, John saw Sally smirk, and without needing to be told twice, John let himself be lead away by this mysterious Sherlock Holmes. 


End file.
